so tearful tonight?
"You are stubborn, rude, and self-centered. I thought you were as passionate about history as I am, and that together we could create a really great program here. But this is only our first day - our first day!" he repeated, his voice stronger. "And I had to take you to the emergency room. Imagine how that's going to look when I complete my project paperwork? We might not even be allowed to finish the summer. If the university feels I cannot keep you students safe, they'll pull my funding and insist we return immediately. Have you even thought about that?"
She shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Tom. Really, I am. But please, let me have a second chance. Please?"
"I'll give you a choice. Either I put you on a plane to Wisconsin in the morning, or you accept my punishment tonight."
She gasped, feeling a strange tingle run through her. It was part dread and part excitement and part she didn't know what. "Punishment?"
"I will punish you exactly the way Colonel Bart would have punished his wife back in 1887. I'll put you over my knee and spank you hard."
Carrie laughed. It was undoubtedly the wrong response, but she just couldn't help it. "Spank me? Come on, get real. Men don't spank their wives. Spanking went out of fashion along with child labor and prohibition, because it didn't work."
"No, Carrie, it didn't go out of fashion. Google spanking sometime, and you'll see that there is a huge community of spankers who believe that it is the right way to maintain a healthy relationship. Both men and women. But I'm not going to argue the pros and cons of spanking with you. The choice is yours: go home or be spanked. Which is it?"
Carrie was silent for so long, that Tom started up the engine as if to drive her to the airport right then. She put her hand on his arm. "I don't want to go home," she said quietly.
Tom turned off the engine again. "Good. I don't want you to, either. I saw this rest area on our way in. We're about a mile from anywhere, so no one will interrupt us."
Carrie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. That odd feeling inside intensified and her panties felt damp. Tom got out of the van, came around to her side and opened her door. He undid her seatbelt, then lifted her in his arms again, carrying her over to a picnic table. He sat down on the table, holding her on his lap. "Carrie, tell me why you are going to be spanked."
"Because I don't want to go home," she said immediately.
He chuckled. "That's true. But what did you do that put you in this position?"
"Hell if I know," she muttered.
He tightened his hold on her. "Carrie," he warned.
"Because I cut my foot on a broken beer bottle," she said.
"Carrie!"
"Because," she snapped, irritated with his line of questioning. Why didn't he just spank her and get it over with? This was stupid. And embarrassing. "Because I didn't listen to you," she said.
"Yes. Because you didn't respect me."
"I do," she argued.
"No. You don't. If you respected me, you wouldn't disobey me. I don't issue commands because I have a Napoleon complex."
She gasped, ready to argue, but he gave her a gentle shake.
"Yes, I heard you say that to your friend. Tents are not as private as dorm rooms. The walls are thin nylon instead of cement block. You might remember that when you are talking with your friends and be careful about what you say. I have not said one single thing just because I want to throw my power around. Every order I have given had a reason. And some of the things I've said wouldn't have to be said, if you students were a little more thoughtful. You could have all come up with a schedule for who was going to cook meals or clean up. You had two days in the car to discuss this. I even suggested more than once that you do so. No one did, so I did."
She hung her head. He was right about that.
"If you students don't want to be ordered around all the time, then grow up. Act like adults and take on a bit of responsibility."
"Yes, Tom."
"And in the past,
"You are stubborn, rude, and self-centered. I thought you were as passionate about history as I am, and that together we could create a really great program here. But this is only our first day - our first day!" he repeated, his voice stronger. "And I had to take you to the emergency room. Imagine how that's going to look when I complete my project paperwork? We might not even be allowed to finish the summer. If the university feels I cannot keep you students safe, they'll pull my funding and insist we return immediately. Have you even thought about that?"
She shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Tom. Really, I am. But please, let me have a second chance. Please?"
"I'll give you a choice. Either I put you on a plane to Wisconsin in the morning, or you accept my punishment tonight."
She gasped, feeling a strange tingle run through her. It was part dread and part excitement and part she didn't know what. "Punishment?"
"I will punish you exactly the way Colonel Bart would have punished his wife back in 1887. I'll put you over my knee and spank you hard."
Carrie laughed. It was undoubtedly the wrong response, but she just couldn't help it. "Spank me? Come on, get real. Men don't spank their wives. Spanking went out of fashion along with child labor and prohibition, because it didn't work."
"No, Carrie, it didn't go out of fashion. Google spanking sometime, and you'll see that there is a huge community of spankers who believe that it is the right way to maintain a healthy relationship. Both men and women. But I'm not going to argue the pros and cons of spanking with you. The choice is yours: go home or be spanked. Which is it?"
Carrie was silent for so long, that Tom started up the engine as if to drive her to the airport right then. She put her hand on his arm. "I don't want to go home," she said quietly.
Tom turned off the engine again. "Good. I don't want you to, either. I saw this rest area on our way in. We're about a mile from anywhere, so no one will interrupt us."
Carrie swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. That odd feeling inside intensified and her panties felt damp. Tom got out of the van, came around to her side and opened her door. He undid her seatbelt, then lifted her in his arms again, carrying her over to a picnic table. He sat down on the table, holding her on his lap. "Carrie, tell me why you are going to be spanked."
"Because I don't want to go home," she said immediately.
He chuckled. "That's true. But what did you do that put you in this position?"
"Hell if I know," she muttered.
He tightened his hold on her. "Carrie," he warned.
"Because I cut my foot on a broken beer bottle," she said.
"Carrie!"
"Because," she snapped, irritated with his line of questioning. Why didn't he just spank her and get it over with? This was stupid. And embarrassing. "Because I didn't listen to you," she said.
"Yes. Because you didn't respect me."
"I do," she argued.
"No. You don't. If you respected me, you wouldn't disobey me. I don't issue commands because I have a Napoleon complex."
She gasped, ready to argue, but he gave her a gentle shake.
"Yes, I heard you say that to your friend. Tents are not as private as dorm rooms. The walls are thin nylon instead of cement block. You might remember that when you are talking with your friends and be careful about what you say. I have not said one single thing just because I want to throw my power around. Every order I have given had a reason. And some of the things I've said wouldn't have to be said, if you students were a little more thoughtful. You could have all come up with a schedule for who was going to cook meals or clean up. You had two days in the car to discuss this. I even suggested more than once that you do so. No one did, so I did."
She hung her head. He was right about that.
"If you students don't want to be ordered around all the time, then grow up. Act like adults and take on a bit of responsibility."
"Yes, Tom."
"And in the past,
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